


One on One

by LuxKen27



Series: Sweet Valley Sophomores [7]
Category: Sweet Valley High - Francine Pascal
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Pre-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 11:53:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7639150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxKen27/pseuds/LuxKen27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s nothing quite as dangerous as a bored Lila Fowler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One on One

**Author's Note:**

> _Author’s note_ : Written for the 2016 Summer Mini Challenge prompt blue lagoon. Further author's notes can be found [here](https://luxken27.dreamwidth.org/773029.html).
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER** : The _Sweet Valley High_ concept, storyline, and characters are © 1983 – 2003 Francine Pascal/Bantam Books/Random House. No money is being made from the creation of this material. No copyright infringement is intended.

~*~

Lila Fowler was bored.

It was a typically beautiful summer day in Sweet Valley, but she had no one to share it with. Her friends had scattered at the end of the school year, into summer jobs or off on vacations with their families. Her father was on yet another business trip, and Fowler Crest’s housekeeper had just started her annual summer sojourn back to whatever country she’d originally come from – Lila had never bothered to learn; it was too difficult to keep up with the revolving cast of servants. 

It was never any fun for her to be alone, but worse than that, the usual summer haunts where she might find someone to spend time with were out of the question: Valley Mall was under perpetual construction; the air conditioning at Sweet Valley Cinema had gone bust the second week of summer and had yet to be fixed; the beach was full of tourists with screaming, obnoxious kids.

All she could do was count down the days until her own summer vacation at the end of August, when she’d jet off with her father for two weeks in Monte Carlo to live it up with the elitist of elite society. Until then, however, there was nowhere to go.

Nothing to do.

No one to hang out with.

Lila had luxuriated in bed for most of the morning, before deciding to take advantage of the bright California sun and a flawless, cloud-free sky. She’d slipped into a metallic gold bikini, put on her newest pair of designer sunglasses, and pulled out a bottle of her favorite European sun oil as she prepared for a day of sunbathing by her pool.

It wasn’t just any pool, of course. Considered the pride of Fowler Crest’s back acreage, it was nothing short of extraordinary: Olympic-sized, but shaped like a lagoon, it was cut into the side of a rolling hill, giving it the illusion of dropping off into the valley below. The water sparkled in the sunlight, shifting from bright teal to calm cerulean to slate blue at the coldest, deepest end. At night, custom in-laid lights made the water shimmer; it transitioned beautifully as the day faded, whether it was playing host to an outdoor barbeque or an all-day pool party.

It was practically wasted on a solitary person, however, and Lila didn’t spend much time there by herself. 

This particular afternoon, however, she was determined to work on her tan. She settled her things in a nearby chair before applying a generous amount of oil to her body and setting herself afloat on her favorite pool raft. She positioned herself for maximum tanning, and she closed her eyes as she soaked up the sun’s rays. The blazing heat brought a welcome dullness to her restless mind, easing away the loneliness that was, unfortunately, her default state of being.

 _If nothing else happens this summer, at least I’ll have a perfect tan_ , she consoled herself, mentally cataloguing her back-to-school wardrobe. Two weeks on the Monégasque coast would be like gilding the lily – she couldn’t wait to see the looks on Cara’s and Jessica’s faces when she strolled into Sweet Valley High with her glorious golden glow. She’d wear white, she decided, musing over whether it would be worth the effort try to purchase something as mundane as a new sundress in Monte Carlo, or if she should simply shop her current, considerable wardrobe.

She sighed as she contemplated the vastness of her choices.

“Looking good, Fowler,” drawled an approving voice from the vicinity of her left.

Lila opened her eyes, inclining her head toward the sound, and was unsurprised to find Bruce Patman standing there, practically leering at her. She knew he was in town, if only because her father had spent the majority of the previous evening ranting and raving about how Bruce’s father was determined to cling to some plot of land in town that her own father considered vitally important to the expansion of his business empire. She had been utterly bored by the conversation, gleaning only that the Patmans had yet to embark on their yearly summer European tour.

Bruce could be an interesting companion, she reflected, but she preferred dealing with him in small doses. She thought he’d felt the same way about her, but apparently not, considering this was the second time this week that he’d invited himself over. Lila found that supremely irritating – even though they were, for all intents and purposes, next-door neighbors, that didn’t mean that he could simply pop over whenever he felt like it, without calling to ask first.

The Patmans liked to pride themselves on being old-money landed gentry, but it was obvious that they had no manners.

“What do _you_ want?” Lila asked in a bored voice, not bothering to remove her sunglasses as she addressed him.

He smirked. “I thought I’d come over and see for myself that you were as bored as I was, considering there’s nothing to do in this town,” he replied. “I figured I’d give you the honor of a rematch on a _real_ tennis court.” He motioned to a brand new, freshly-strung tennis racquet resting against the equipment bag at his feet. 

“I’m shocked,” Lila replied, laying one hand dramatically across her chest. “You mean you’re telling me that your ego could handle losing to a girl _three_ times in a row?”

“That’s where the _real_ court part comes in,” he shot back, before dropping his shoulders in a light shrug. “I was willing to risk it, but I think you’ve got a better idea. And hey, I’m flexible.”

She made a great show of lowering her sunglasses half an inch and scrutinizing him over the frames. “Did you bring a suit this time?” she mused, taking in his pristine tennis whites, brand new tennis shoes, and the cream-colored cashmere sweater tied around his shoulders.

He gave her a smoldering look as he untied the sweater, flinging it unceremoniously to the ground. “What do you think?” he mused, holding her gaze as he pulled his shirt over his head and stepped out of his shoes.

Lila’s heart fluttered. She knew what he was doing: daring her to challenge him, to tell him to stop – and she was determined not to give him the satisfaction of demurring. She schooled her features into a pointed expression of disinterest. “I think,” she finally said as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his tennis shorts, “that you are _not_ getting into this pool naked.” 

“Oh no?” he drawled. “And who’s going to stop me? You?”

“And why would I do that?” she pondered sarcastically. “I need a good laugh.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint you…” He smiled, his voice trailing off as he shirked this final piece of outerwear, revealing a nondescript black bathing suit underneath.

There was nothing disappointing about him. He was six feet of pure, lean athleticism – long, smooth, muscled limbs and chiseled abs, honed by years of training for tennis. With his windswept black hair and fathomless blue eyes, he was absolutely stunning – and the worst part of all was that he knew it. Bruce Patman took great pride in his appearance, and he enjoyed lording his good looks over everyone, male and female alike.

Even so, he never missed an opportunity to have his ego stroked – which was why Lila was determined not to let her immense, practically magnetic attraction to him show. After all, he’d once told her that he enjoyed a challenge.

If he thought that merely standing in front of her, poised like a Ken doll on display, was going to inspire her to shower him with compliments, he had another thought coming.

She merely slid her sunglasses back into place, trailing her fingers through the water as she gazed at him.

Infuriatingly, he seemed completely unfazed by her silence. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, not bothering to wait for a response this time, instead turning on his heel and setting off for the diving board.

“Not at all,” she murmured under her breath, her eyes sliding down the length of his body as he sauntered over to the far side of the pool. A tiny shiver raced down her spine as she admired him from afar, suddenly remembering what had happened the last time he’d taken a running leap into her pool.

Her gaze fell to her wrist, and the sparkling, perfectly matched row of diamonds encircling it. She’d had the bracelet’s clasp fixed; nothing short of the Jaws of Life could tear it away from her now.

She looked up, watching as Bruce walked down the length of the diving board and simply stood on the end of it, gazing down into the water. He lifted his arms as if he was about to execute some complicated, Olympic-caliber dive. He rocked back on his heels, testing the board’s flexibility, and for a moment she wondered if he was realized that the board was too close to the water to support anything more than a simple swan dive. If he tried anything fancy, he’d up at the bottom of the pool with a fractured skull.

She opened her mouth to warn him, but quickly closed it. He’d been to countless parties that she’d hosted over the years, and had dived off that board multiple times. Surely now, even if he was trying to impress her, he wasn’t _that_ much of a macho idiot…?

Indeed not. He stilled, lowering his hands to his sides once more, and turned back, walking calmly back to the base. Once he got there, however, he immediately turned, ran the entire length of the board, and tucked his knees to his chest as he dove in, gleefully yelling, “Cannonball!” as he landed in the water.

Lila rolled her eyes and shifted her raft away from the sight of him. Trust Bruce to choose the most inelegant way possible to enter the pool. 

She trailed her fingers in the water as she listened to him splashing around behind her. It was rather fun to withhold her attention from him, knowing that it was eating away at him, although she was rather baffled as to why he was seeking her out. Twice in one week, no less – surely he wasn’t _that_ bored? If she hadn’t known better, she might think he was interested in her. 

That was ridiculous, though. He’d never made any secret of his voracious appetite for older women, even though he did tend to have younger girlfriends. He’d made his way through most of her sophomore class already, leaving a trail of tears and broken hearts in his wake. And anyway, he knew better than to test her – she had never fawned at his feet, and she never would.

She knew him too well for that, unlike her best friend Jessica, who thought he was God incarnate.

“So I heard your daddy was taking you to France,” he called out as he swam towards her.

“You heard wrong,” she replied, rolling over onto her stomach. The only thing worse than a faded tan was an uneven one, and she wasn’t going to let him distract her from her ultimate goal that afternoon.

She eyed him as he drew near to her, unable to stop herself from admiring his fine strokes. “We’re going to Monte Carlo,” she told him.

He appeared suitably impressed by that. “So Paris is too passé, eh?” he mused, not breaking his stride as he swam around the length of her raft.

She sighed. “Not exactly,” she murmured. Her heart took a painful beat. She’d only been to Paris once, and that was before her mother had abandoned them. Now that she lived there, Lila had never had any compunction to go back.

It would be too awkward, and too painful.

Bruce surfaced behind her. “Oh, right,” he said abruptly as he treaded water. “So it’s the playground of the nouveau riche instead, huh? Why am I not surprised?”

Lila turned her head, narrowing her eyes as she regarded him from behind her sunglasses. “Why are you even here? I thought you’d be off on _your_ annual European tour by now.”

He grinned. “Dad had some business to attend to,” he replied with a shrug. “I think we’re going to go before school starts again.” He wrinkled his nose. “At least, I hope we are. I’m going to go crazy if I have to stick around _here_ all summer.”

“Yes, however would you entertain yourself, without me around to annoy,” Lila deadpanned.

He shrugged again. “Sometimes there’s an advantage to having someone to be bored with,” he noted with a sly smile.

“Well, _I_ won’t be bored in Monte Carlo,” she declared, flicking her silky brown hair off her shoulders.

“No,” he agreed. “You’ll be the most beautiful girl there.”

She raised a brow. “Are you trying to flatter me?” she asked suspiciously. Bruce wasn’t one to just hand out compliments – there was always some kind of string attached.

“Just stating a fact,” he responded lightly. “Beautiful girls are never bored.”

Lila’s heart began to beat heavily in her chest as he leveled his icy blue gaze on hers. All this talk about being bored…was he trying to tell her something?

“Will I see you there?” she asked softly.

“In Monte Carlo? No chance,” he laughed. “The Patman money is a couple hundred years too old to be considered nouveau riche, and I’m way too classy to slum it, even for you.” He pushed his hands through his hair. “No, we’re going to the Italian coast this year.”

“Has Italy been warned?” she returned archly.

He gave her raft a playful shove in response, and she smiled to herself. Maybe he considered it gauche to be seen in Monte Carlo, but he wouldn’t be _that_ far away if the Patmans were basing themselves on the Italian Riviera. In the end, it was all the same strip of sand, after all.

“At least I won’t be making a fool of myself, panting away for some humdrum barely legitimate royalty,” Bruce sneered, still treading water a couple feet away. “Face it, Lila – you aren’t pretty enough to be the next Princess Grace; I hope you don’t embarrass yourself chasing after a prince for a summer fling.”

Lila lifted her brows; obviously her little remark had hit a nerve. “No, I suppose you’ll just have to settle for striking out with the common people, as per usual,” she shot back. “You talk a big game, Bruce Patman, but when was the last time you ever even _had_ a summer fling?”

He burst forward in response, rapidly closing the space between them, and reached out, unceremoniously pulling her into the pool, her raft helplessly flipping over on top of her.

She surfaced seconds later, gasping heavily, and shoved her sunglasses on top of her head, scraping the hair plastered against her face along with it. “What was that for?” she sputtered, wiping at her face with her free hand. 

He closed his hand around her arm. “This,” he replied roughly, capturing her mouth with his own.

This kiss caught her completely off guard; she yielded to him as her mind spun into oblivion, as she tried to process the fact that she was in the water instead of floating on the raft, the fact that they had just been exchanging insults and now they very much were not.

He let go of her hand, wrapping his arms around her instead, drawing her body flush to his. One kiss cascaded into another, and another, softening with each touch, his lips pliant yet firm as he nipped at the corners of her mouth.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she said lowly, her hands drifting around his shoulders of their own volition.

“I _think_ I’m kissing you,” he replied cheekily, “although if you’re not sure, then obviously I’m not doing something right.” He grinned against her lips. “Let me try again.”

She finally managed to put some space between them. “I’m serious, Patman,” she said sharply. “Are you trying to start something? Because I’m telling you now, don’t even _think_ about it.”

“Geez, Lila, would you get a grip?” he implored, still holding her close. “We’re just having a little fun.”

“Relieving our mutual boredom, right?” she mocked, suddenly infuriated with the playful little smirk clinging to his lips. “Don’t even think about playing me,” she warned him.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured her, leaning into her and pressing his lips against hers – a bit harder this time; less playful, more insistent. “Believe me,” he added, his voice suddenly raw, “if I wanted you, you’d know it.”

He kissed her again, his hands sliding possessively down the planes of her back, over the curves of her hips, under the backs of her thighs. He parted her legs around himself, lifting her up until their bodies fit together perfectly, until she felt the heat and length of him rubbing against her.

Her heart leapt in her chest as she realized what was happening, as she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, as she closed her arms around him, her hands twining into his hair. He wanted her, all right – but, interestingly enough, he was also fighting his attraction.

She felt flattered, but confused. Where had it come from? They’d known each other all their lives. And why here – why _now_? He hadn’t shown the faintest flicker of interest before this summer. Hell, she wasn’t sure that this even constituted interest now.

Their kisses had turned heavy and hard, with a little twist of spite. She could feel his restraint, and it electrified her, and intrigued her. Was he really interested in her, or just trying to goad her? Did he think he could have his way with her, or did he know that she would resist? 

Did he realize that he’d ceded all of the power to her? Was he waiting to see what she’d do with it?

She felt the top of her suit slacken, the water cool as it swirled against her skin. He moaned deep in his throat as he touched her breast, flicking his thumb over her nipple. His mouth broke away from hers, and he nipped at her jaw, her neck, her shoulder as he fondled her.

She swiftly kneed him in the groin just as his head dipped into the water, and it was his turn to sputter incoherently as he doubled over in agony.

“Tsk, tsk,” she chided, pushing away from him as she re-tied her top. “You know better than that, Patman. My turf, my rules.”

He shot her a murderous glare. “Don’t play me, Fowler,” he growled. “ _You_ know better than that – I always get what I want.”

She merely smirked at him as she brushed against the side of the pool. She reached back and hoisted herself out of the water, sitting down primly on the concrete skirt. “You’re going to have to earn it this time,” she informed him, leaning forward slightly, offering him a glimpse of what he’d tried to steal.

“We’ll see about that,” he snorted with derision, but he couldn’t shield his desire completely, his eyes still trained to her chest. 

She shrugged and stood up, lowering her sunglasses back into place as she moved over to her chair and picked up her towel. She couldn’t resist shooting a coy glance at him over her shoulder. He’d managed to unfurl his body, and had set off into laps, swimming at a furious pace towards the deep end.

 _Maybe this summer won’t be a complete bore after all_ , she mused as she toweled herself off, hiding a satisfied smile. _And maybe I’ll have someone to hang out with, after all…_


End file.
